Of Cloak and Dagger
by Emrald Nut
Summary: In the black of night the governor's mansion is robbed, and everyone wants to find the thief. This is the story of what happened, who did it, what he knows and whos hunting him.
1. Half Century

Prologue

It was a breezy mid spring night when the thief broke into the governor's mansion, looking not only to do something no one had accomplished in 50 years, but to make a fat sum of money while he was at it. The mansion of course, is a prize any rogue would love to conquer. It was 5 stories high, surrounded by 20' walls on all sides, and situated on top of a foothill a little ways north of the capitol that it ruled. Guarded by everything from your average nightwatches always on patrol to the addition of hired mercenaries during times of economical trouble in the territory, when the mansion was particularly disliked by the common folk.

The thief, was no more than a dwarf who decided at a young age that mountain life was not for him, and had a knack for getting out of trouble just as well as he got in it. Being the dwarf that he is however, not many people trusted him to do their dirty work. Apparently, most people seem to thing only halflings and elves are fit to do the sneaking, and this is why he was standing in at the base of the hill of the governor's mansion, and about to attempt the best robbery in a half century.

The rogue climbed the hill in a quick manner, stopping only thrice to shrink into the shadows and foliage around him when he occasional patrolman walked by. So far so good.

The outer wall is where the first real problem lay. Night watches perched in their posts atop it like birds on a statue. Next to each guard was a bell, and if that bell rang, all hope of any kind of robbery will become lost in the abyss. Peering from the bushes no more than 50 feet from the wall the thief lie, going over the execution of the first part of his heist.

The governor was not a popular man, and so on frequent occasions the local village kids liked to toss things at the walls in pointless defiance to the rule the governor had. These things ranged from stones to eggs to molotov cocktails, and it would be no quincidence that another cocktail would hit the south wall tonight.

The thief lit up the towel and let the bottle fly, giving it as much hang time as he could. He ran toward the east wall and popped out of the cover of forest and shadow just as the brilliant orange flash went off.

This was one of the most risky parts of the operation, for if one of the guards decided to ring the bell and put the place on alert, the operation would end right then and there. This had already had this happen the previous two attempts in which the thief had to make a quick getaway. Tonight however, nobody felt the need to be the one to cause alarm if there was none, and so tonight the bells remained silent.

The rogue made it to the wall and quickly began swing the grappling hook he had brought. He let it fly and the hook sailed to the top, locking on to the wall in all the confusion. He scurried up the wall at a blistering pace, and took a quick peek over the top.

A lone guard was still looking behind him at the now dying fire below as he walked back to his post. The rogue saw him turn around and look forward, then spying the hook dug into the battlements. With a small gasp, the guard turned and ran toward the warning bell. He made it no more than two steps before the rogue leapt on top of the wall, and began chasing him down, simultaneously reaching into his belt and grabbing his faithful ruby encrusted dirk. (A dirk is a weapon shorter than a sword but longer than a dagger). He ran toward the fleeing guard, shifting his weight in the process to whip the dirk forward. It sailed through the air, striking home in the guard's lower left back, just above the liver. The man let out a quick yelp, but was almost immediately stifled by the hand of the onrushing thief. The thief, using his own forward momentum, rolled underneath the falling body of the guard and used his legs to throw the man over the battlements and 20 feet to the hard ground.

Finishing his backward roll, the thief got back on his feet and took a quick look around. He knew he had caused too much noise to linger any longer. He flipped the grappling hook around so it hung on the outside of the wall, facing the way he came in. Then pulling the rope across the top of the wall, and holding the end, he scaled down the inside of the wall. After reaching the bottom, he released the rope, and the hook end fell down to the ground on the opposite side. Out of sight, and out of mind.

He was now in the courtyard of the mansion. This posed a new threat, guard dogs. Those little bastards liked nothing better than to sniff you out and chew you to pieces before any guard would have any chance to get a hold of you. Being the simplistic creatures they are, there's no complicated maneuver he could pull to avoid them. The best idea is to not get anywhere near one. If that's unavoidable, then generally the idea is to first kill the guard, than kill the dog he was following. Without its master, dogs were nothing more than a stupid animal with the basic idea to kill anything that moves. However this animal instinct was still no match for a quick hand wielding a good weapon.

He made it halfway across the big beautiful courtyard without being noticed. The gardens provided plenty of cover against the naked eye, and by staying near the flowers, their scent helped cover up any faint trace the dog might get of him. However it was here, after darting across a pathway and into the cover of another bush, he turned to see a dog, no more than 5 feet away, its nose pointed in the air, sniffing, and its now interested master, looking at it curiously.

Ignoring the human first then dog thing, he crept from the shadows and attempted to silence them both in a surprise move. He was within jumping distance of the dog, when he leapt. The dog was first to notice, the incoming dwarf, but didn't even have time to turn its head away from the blow as the rogue plunged his dirk into the dogs neck. With his other arm he pushed the dog into its master's stomach, who was about to yell, but was stopped as the weight of the German Shepard knocked the air out of him. A barely audible "oof". In the next second the thief removed his weapon from the dog and brought the hilt down upon the guard's forehead. His head slammed into the stone pathway, but it was a merciful blow compared to the other option, of dispatching him the same way he had the dog.

He made it the rest of the way across the courtyard and to the small wooden door leading into the mansion. The door was locked, of course, but an easy enough pick for a sensitive hand. It took no more than 30 seconds and the rogue had reached the inside of the mansion. An admirable feat, which was last accomplished 3 years ago, by a human girl named Iddia, who had been caught, and was now supposedly, was still sitting in a prison cell. (Or so says the cover-up story invented to hide that the girl actually had escaped a number of years earlier, and is currently living with a secluded group of gnomes miles away) As the rogue opened the door, he immediately noticed that the room was not only big and beautiful, but a literal death trap for a thief. Everything in the room was top of the line, premium quality carpentry. Everything except the floor, which looked to be nothing more than expensive tile with shoddy workmanship. But a man of the governor's stature would never stand for badly lain tile, and so the poor looking floor could only mean that the floor was a classic pressure sensitive trap. The tiles moved when stepped on, which undoubtedly triggered some sort death-dealing device. Whatever it may be, he didn't care to find out.

Looking around for a way to cross the floor without actually touching it, he wasn't surprised to find none readily available. Security was good here, no doubt about it. The thief scanned the room for something, any thing to bypass it. He had no choice but to take the long way across. Which meant prying up every tile he had to walk on, and disabling the trigger mechanism. Thankfully the tile was not secured down by any means and was simply lain there. When he lifted the first tile, he immediately found what the trap was.

Under each trick tile there was a small, inflated air sack, that when collapsed by the weight of someone's foot, blew a small puff of what was most likely contact and respiration poison. It was in a powdered form, and from what the rogue could tell, was probably meant to burn the legs and restrict breathing. Also from each tile led a cable, to what was most likely an alarm system. After cutting the cable and removing the poison sack, he repeated this process nearly 50 times to cross the room. It came as no surprise to him that not every single tile was trapped, but a surprising majority was. Now at the door he tried to listen into the next room. Hearing nothing he shoved a small mirror under the heavy oak door and looked around. Everything seemed clear, so after checking the doorknob for wires or poison, slowly opened the door.

He entered a great hall, easily 30 feet high, from which banners and decorations of all sorts dominated the shadowed walls. The familiar warning bell stood a few feet from where he stood. A guard was approaching, humming a familiar spiritual hymn of Pelor the Sun God, he had yet to turn the corner, and the thief quickly shrunk into the shadow of near by suit of armor.

The guard continued humming in a surprisingly in tune voice, and was reaching the climax of the song, which brought on much louder humming, and even a few fiery arm waves. After finishing the song, he was not far from the thief's position. He must have been a musician, because he then began humming a scale. Being far too distracted by the music in his head, the rogue simply waited for the guard to pass. Immediately following the leaving of the guard, he cut the rope attached to the warning bell. Then used the rope to help secure the bell in place. It could still be hit, and rung, but it wouldn't be half as loud as it normally should. Small matters like this were easy enough to do, and could be the difference between whether the night would end in crime or punishment.

The thief then proceeded around the corner from which the guard had first come. The hallway ended here, with a smaller hallway, and 3 doors leading from it. Taking the smaller hallway, he halted a few feet in, hearing voices around the next bend. A quick peak around the corner with his trusty mirror quickly revealed he had found what he was looking for. A large circular room with 3 guards in it lay in the reflective glass. Two sleeping guard dogs lay in the corner. The two guards were discussing how long it would take for the next shift to come.

"Well forget them, its not like they have any more desire to be here than you and I do. Let's just get out of here," said one impatient guard.

"Not tonight Rhhys, there are more vandals out tonight, we gotta stay here until the next shift comes."

"Well me and Duke are going hunting tomorrow, and I have to get to sleep."

"Go ahead then, I'll cover for you until they arrive"

"Thanks, a lot, I owe you one."

"You owe me more than just one."

The fact that the shifts were changing right now was no coincidence. The thief had a man on the inside. It was absolutely mission critical. Even the smallest details like the name of your victim's mother will change the course of the job. The inside man was no more than the secretary's assistant, but enough important messages passed through his hands, and one of them happened to be the guard shifts.

The guards got up, and walked over to the sleeping dogs. Gently shaking one awake, he turned and left. After the thief was convinced he was gone, he slowly crept over to the second sleeping dog, and with a precision strike, he killed it instantly with his dirk through the top of the dog's head. The soft thump was not completely ignored by the guard, who looked in their general direction, but seeing nothing of the thief in his pitch-black clothes, returned to the parchment he was reading. The rogue stole toward the desk into the center of the room where the crude guard's desk sat.

He was within arms reach of the guard, on his left side, and still being unnoticed, he blew a silent puff of air at the stack of papers on the opposite side of the guard, who briefly turned and looked. When he looked back, a blade was at his throat.

"Speak nothing, do nothing," said a the threatening voice of the dwarf "if you anything goes wrong, your mother won't be able to recognize the body after I'm finished with you."

The guard was paralyzed with fear, and with his other hand, the thief began sifting through the files of papers. Finally, his hand lay on what he was looking for, a small visitor's guide of some sort. It had a non-detailed map, the mostly indicated areas of commerce, but a small note in the east wing read, "governor's quarters, absolutely off-limits."

* * *

Okay, I'm sorry to just cut it off here, but it will continue in the next chapter I swear. Chapter 1 and 2 were orignally just one chapter, but I changed that fearing that the abnormally large chapter was discouraging people from reading my story.

So anyway, all I really want is to be read and reviewed. Be honest, brutally if needs be. I'm here to become a better writer than I was, and people pointing out my faults will benefit megreatly. And if you liked the first chapter, the second is even better in my opinion, so keep reading.


	2. Go Out With a Bang

**Chapter 2:  
**Go Out With a Bang

After knocking out the guard and hiding the unconscious form, he headed to the governor's quarter's dodging yet another patrol on the way. Two minutes later, he found the narrow hall with a pair of double doors spanning the gap, and a decorative stained glass arrangement above the doors. The doors were almost undoubtedly trapped, but the rogue was much more resourceful than that. He cut a small gouge in the wooden wall to his side, and jumped up to it. Using it as a brief foothold, he quickly snapped his body horizontally across the narrow hall, and held himself in mid-air, braced against the two walls. Every muscle cried in protest, but he held his abnormally trim (for a dwarf) figure. Quickly reaching to his belt with his left hand, he unsheathed his dirk, and began prying out the glass panes. He removed one piece, clamped it in his teeth and popped open a second panel, and smashed the half-inch piece of wood in between.

Now able to crawl through the small hole, with great effort, he slipped over the doorway, and landed softly on the other side. Laying the glass on the floor, he darted down the dark hallway.

Using his handy mirror again, he saw all that lay between him and the governor's room. Two guards in a narrow hallway, both leaning against opposite walls, discussing the upcoming horse race. With no easy way to get through he began slowly creeping toward them, hoping to get close enough before they noticed. He was just close enough when one of them finally noticed the shadow creeping toward them. He yelled, but no one besides his partner was close enough to hear him. A quick stab, and he dropped. The next guard was still drawing his sword when the assailant got to him, getting a stab in the neck.

Looking around the hallway, he noticed one of the rooms seemed strangely out of place. It read, "servant's station". Of course the place had servants, but for their closet to be in the governor's quarters seemed very strange. Taking out a pair of lock picks, he began feeling the inside. It was a 7-tumbler lock, very expensive, and definitely not a broom closet lock. Getting to work, his hands were like big nerves, feeling every tiny groove in the lock like a tiny puzzle. He was on his fifth tumbler when he looked to his right. One of the recently stabbed guards was not dead, and crawling silently the whole way, had already reached the warning bell. The thief thought of finishing him off, but it was far too late for that. The guard wasn't going to attack anytime soon, and the bell was already as good as rung. No point and taking an innocent life.

The bell rung out, loud and booming. Time was running short. Going into a state of complete concentration, he picked the last tumbler just as he could hear distant yells coming toward him. Quickly entering the room, he closed and locked the door. After a quick scan, he realized that this was in fact, the governor's room. Thankfully there was no governor in it, but he of course already knew that thanks to his insider. He began tearing the room apart, leaving no shelf, drawer, or pillowcase unchecked. At last he stared into the mirror, and realizing how thick the mirror frame looked, he smashed the reflective surface with a nearby metal paperweight.

On the inside of the broken mirror, lay what he quickly estimated to be 5000 platinum pieces, and a stack of documents lain vertically inside the open space. These documents he quickly checked out and realized to be the proposal documents and a 10 percent increase on taxes for foreign farm equipment imports. Considering these farm machines are vital to the local farming community, the citizens would be up in arms against this, not to mention the amount of money someone would pay for these documents, if only to get to be the hero who destroyed them. Pocketing all that was in there, he turned to examine what was going on outside when he heard a huge bang at the door.

Shouts came from outside the room, followed by another huge bang. The rogue scooped up the paperweight used to smash the mirror and jumped up to the top of the mirror, then hopped on the rafters supporting the ceiling. Climbing on top of one, he began making his way across the rafters to the side of the room. On the fourth bang the heavy door flew open, and three men slowly walked in. Everything went dead silent. The rogue remained hidden, as the three men spread out. Just as they began tilting their heads upwards, he lobbed the paperweight into the nearby curtain.

Only the curtain's rustling was heard, but all 3 guards turned their heads, and the thief pounced on the closest one. He then took off running for the doorway, stopping only for a second to wave his arm outside the threshold between the room and hallway.

Two swords flashed, but they were too slow to hit him. He grabbed both the guard's arms and did a front flip over them like a high bar. He then let go of the left guard's arm, and back-flipped over the right guard, snapping his neck from behind. He shoved the body at the other guard, and rammed his shoulder into the much lighter door, not realizing that it said, heat shaft. The room was no more than a tiny closet used to conceal the heat ventilation tube leading from the floor below. Acting more on instinct than logic, he slammed the door behind him, ripped of the cover grate, and jumped down the metal tube.

Being a dwarven rogue caused him many jobs in months past, but he never expected the fact that he was a dwarf would save his life. Not only would the sheer fall he was now encountering one that could easily kill the much favored halfling, but the burning coals at the bottom of the shoot would have roasted alive just about any other race.

The thief hit the bottom hard, rolling, but shattering his shoulder plate in the process. The furnace coals provided enough cushion to save his life. Unfortunately that's when he realized that it was hot… DAMN HOT, and he was trapped in a metal tomb. He thrashed violently slamming his heavy dwarven frame into what was thankfully the furnace door. His clothes nearly burned away, and pain engulfing him like the oven in which he had just found himself, he collapsed to the floor, and writhed in pain.

He heard voices, and thought very seriously about just laying there and dying, but something wouldn't let him, he was near the end of the greatest pull in a half century, not to mention all the riches he could ever want. Struggling to his feet, eyes too teary and smoked covered to see, he stumbled to a wall, and felt another metal grate above him, but this one he could feel cool wind through.

Breathing in deeply for the first time since the fall, he felt every inch of his lungs and windpipe burn with the new coming fresh air. Bashing out the grate, he jumped and pulled himself through it with great effort. He could feel he was outside now, but that's as far as his train of thought could go. He got to his feet out of pure instinct and stumbled a few feet. But the ground beneath him began to rapidly slope, and he soon realized he was falling down a hill. He rolled for a few seconds, and then came to a stop on hard stone.

Daring to open his eyes, he saw an approaching horse through blurry vision. Feeling a pair of arms reach him, he sputtered out hoarsely, "don't take me… hide me, please… hide…" and then passed out.

* * *

Thus ends the infiltration, but this is only the beginning. What's gonnahappen next? Nobody knows, not even me. However I'll figure it out, and when I do, I'll put it up here. Don't expect quick updates though. I'll aim for one a week, but I doubt that'll even happen. But you know, review this beast. And make me happy. You want me to be happy don't you? 


	3. Magic BAH!

Chapter 2

Magic, BAH!

I've been playing Dungeons and Dragons Online a lot recently, and not only is it an excellent game, but it has heavily influencedmy ideas for thenextfew chapters. Thank it. NOW!

* * *

Dwarves don't believe in magic. It's just the way it is, and has always been. But when a cleric finds you unconscious and turns you from an oversized piece of toast to a healthy breathing dwarf, suddenly magic seems that it may have its uses. 

When the rogue awoke inside a cabin covered with holy idols and scriptures, it was just those thoughts on magicthat ran through his mind. He lay for a minute, remembering what had happened before. He remembered the break in, the escape from the governor's room, and the tumble he took down in to the furnace. He remembered passing out in front of a man cloaked in shadow. Moving his hands toward the pocket where he had stashed his stolen money and property, he was shocked to find that no pain came with the movement. Reaching into the deep pocket, he found nothing. Sitting up he began to check all his other pockets, though he knew full well that he wouldn't find the things he stole. Rogues never misplace things. The man who had saved him had most likely taken the liberty of removing the money from his pockets.

The rogue, though he knew he should feel grateful for his saviors help, he couldn't deny the greed and still felt a little angry that a stranger was taking things from him. Reasoning with himself, he decided that there was no guarantee that he would ever get his stuff back, which would make all his work and pain pointless. He continued to feel slightly resentful, but suddenly remembered his dirk.

His hand shot inside his still burned and tattered clothes faster than the eye could see. Reaching to his concealed sheathe, he found nothing and quickly scrambling searched all through his clothes, but once again knowing that it wouldn't be there.

Before when he found he didn't have his stolen treasure, he still toyed with the thought about letting it go, but not the dirk. The dirk was a whole different story. All the gold, platinum, and incriminating documents in the world weren't worth losing the dirk.

One might now be inclined to ask, what is so special about the dirk. The rogue had his reasons of course, but whatever they were, he was not telling. What was important, is that he had always had the dirk, and it had gotten to the point where he felt as though the dirk was a long time friend. The very idea of a weapon being a personal friend is entirely bizarre, but then again, the rogue didn't socialize much, and when your alone 90 of the time, you don't think like most people.

The rogue decided that he had absolutely no choice but to merely remain in the cabin which was apparently empty until the some returned or he simply starved to death. He began to think about the documents he had stolen. They were, as he remembered, a bill for a new tax on foreign farm equipment. The very idea of the tax was most obviously just a government scam to make the rich richer, so naturally it couldn't be revealed to anyone in fear of a mass revolt, at least, it couldn't be revealed now. Eventually after enough pay offs and random political favors the rest of the land governing coin lords would warm up to the idea of the new tax and would, as they always did, eventually find a way to present it to the public in a way that wouldn't spark the massive rejection that it so definitely deserved.

Sometimes the dwarf thought about just killing the whole lot of the greedy bastards, one by one in sporadic assassinations. Of course the idea was ludicrous, but it was just moments like these, of too much pondering and reflection that drove him to seriously consider such thoughts. Fortunately, before his twisted mind could produce any more thoughts of devilishness a audible creak and the heavy clomp of footsteps entered the house the front door.

The dwarf thought about hiding, but the man had already had numerous chances to kill him, so he doubted he would have to worry about it now. When he finally came into view, it was indeed a human male. He carried a large mace that was sheathed on his back, and he wore a broad smile which quickly turned to a puzzled look when he realized his guest was awake and functioning. Hiding his sudden surprise, he turned himself back into his original smiling self.

"I see you've finally managed to rouse master dwarf" he said in a jolly voice. "No doubt you've found your possessions are missing, but fear not, they are all safe with me and I will return them to you in due time."

Master dwarf? It had been a LONG time since anyone had ever called him that. He was caught off guard, and was nearly ashamed of his only reply.

"I would prefer if I could receive them now" said the dwarf in a "no duh" type manner.

"And I understand but you must believe me, I cannot return the weapons back to the thief which I found smoldering on the street, not 50 feet from the Governor's Mansion reported to have been robbed that very night."

The dwarf said nothing, but remained rigid and looking discontent.

"Like I said we will get to that in due time, but first, introductions. I am Jhosper, child and prophet of the great god Pelor. And you are?"

The dwarf hesitated, he hadn't used or heard his real name spoken in many years. Though not much remained of his dwarf clan who rejected him years ago, (83 years to be exact) it was best not to risk getting them involved in his shady affairs by using his real name. He instead made something up on the spot.

"Crunk" he said in almost a whisper. _Crunk! _he thought to himself, _hells bells, what was I thinking._

"Crunk," the cleric repeated with well practied fake acceptance, "well good to meet you. As you are well aware by now I am sure, I have healed your wounds and brought you to this cabin, and normally, I would have no problem doing this and letting you on your way. But the day after I found you, which was 3 days ago if you'd like to know…"

"I had wondered" Crunk interrupted somewhat rudely, as someone who did not socialize might have.

Without missing a beat the Jhosper continued, "The day after I found you I learned the governor's mansion had been robbed, and I of course knew it had to be you. So I thought, this guy has to be good at what he does, thieving and all, so maybe I could use him to my advantage."

Crunk didn't like where this was going. Lifesaver or not, this guy wasn't going down the path of Crunk's respect. Whenever someone starts talking about using you to their advantage, they don't mean they're going to let you off easy.

"Basically, a couple of friends and I, we gotta job to do, and I know I'm being vague, but we can't do it without a thief, and an extrodinarily talented one such as yourself. What I'm trying to say is, if you want yourgoods back, you need to do me as big a favor as I did you."

The dwarf's reply was unsure and hestitant, "that sounds...," he searched for the word, "reasonable. Not like I have much a choice really. However I do need to know what it is you want, and I do nothing until I at least get back my blade."

"But of course," replied Jhosper, "my story is long, but we do have quite a bit of time on our hands, so why don't we start with your story?"

* * *

Yeah, that was intended to be somewhat exciting when I first started writing it, but there wasn't much I felt like I could do with this chapter besides more plot prep. Next will most likely be back to our mysterious duo introduced in the last chapter, but that's all for me to decide whenever I start writing again. Cherio. 


	4. No, I don't want to know your name

**Chapter 3**

**No, I don't want to know your name, but I suppose you're going to tell me anyway**.

_Hi again, what's up? Oh you're reading my newest chapter? How kind of you, except, if you don't review. That would be MOST unkind. To have read but not bothered to acknowledge the fact that you read it is near insulting! Okay, so I won't be insulted if you don't review, but I will be bothered, and disappointed. Be cool, read and review._

* * *

Perhaps this man thinks I am someone who enjoys a nice chat, perhaps he doesn't realize what it means to be a thief… perhaps he's just dumb. Either way, I hope he likes rejection, because that's what he is headed for. 

The rogue was not happy about being asked to tell his life story. And bitterness rang through his voice as very vaguely described a small portion of his past.

"My story?" Crunk raised his eyebrows at Jhosper who didn't seem to take the subtle hint.

"Yes, of course. If were going to work together, I would most like to know where you come from."

"What makes you so sure I will do this for you?

The cleric laughed, "In all my years I have never known a dwarf to pass up his treasure, especially not one who makes a living out of stealing it."

Of course the holy snob was right. He would do just about anything to get back the things he stole, to say nothing of the dirk. But he still didn't like the fact that the cleric was so sure of himself. "If we are going to work together, I think one thing must be understood. I don't like most people, especially people who overtly dance in their self-confidence. The more you tell me what you know I'm going to do, the much less likely it is I'm going to do what it is you want. If we intend to be a cooperative and successful team, you are going to have to assume that I have no problem leaving at any minute. Its just the way I work, and if you want my skills, it's a package deal."

Jhosper chuckled to himself and replied, "very well master dwarf, if it is silence you expect from me than so be it. And I believe my friends will give you the same general courtesy. On the subject of my friends, I think it is about time we go and meet them, so we can commence our plan with the utmost speed. I know you are probably kind of upset that I'm just ushering you along on my crazy plot, but your going to have to deal with it for a little while longer. And one more thing, the road to where we are to meet is guarded by people that do not welcome us, so… just… don't let your guard down.

Of course, thought Crunk, all we have to do is meet a couple of long time pals, but wonder of wonders someone is trying to kill us along the way. I suppose I should expect it.

After a quick look at a map to describe their route, Crunk and Jhosper begin to arm themselves. Jhosper took an average sized but pristine looking mace. He also donned a quiver of arrows with most violent red arrowheads.

Crunk gestured at the arrowheads and asked "sure they look good, buts why make them red?"

"Flame spell" Jhosper replied matter of factly, "does a lot of damage once it's embedded in something"

"Now you have to give my weapon back." Crunk said with a hint of anticipation.

"True enough… but I hid all that in town, so we will have to make a quick stop there before we head out.

A quick hike led them from the cabin into a local village. On the outskirts many abandon houses sat decaying, but providing shelter those in poverty. The geometric design of the houses spoke of very dwarven influenced architecture. It was inside one of these houses that Crunk's precious dirk lie. The treasure he had stolen, Jhosper explained, was hidden somewhere else. Crunk thought of commenting that if his dirk had not been found he would have killed the man as he stood, but thought that it wasn't necessary to anger his guide just to prove a point. Continuing through the city Crunk noticed that the dwarven influence continued throughout the city, but there was also a great deal of elven structure too. Crunk speculated that the city had been under control of three different races at different times, elven, dwarven, and human, and in that order it seemed.

They stopped at an armory to repair some of the old armor the Jhosper was wearing. Crunk convinced the cleric to buy a new pair of sais and a throwing knife considering Jhosper had his money still hidden.

Now fully armed they quickly passed through the rest of the village. Eventually coming to a rough path leading deep into a foreboding forest. The trees were thick and twisted, with leaves of the deepest green, ranging from thin like willow to broad as oak.

"We're to meet in a cabin a couple miles into the wood. One of my companions is already there, the other will arrive shortly" he added flatly, "hopefully."

Without another word they begin to trek down the path. The dense cover of forest blocked out much of the sun and the path slowly became more overgrown. And then, as if out of nowhere, it seemed the forest ended. They had ducked underneath a low branch and stood back to reveal a large clearing in the forest, with a sparse population of much smaller trees. Dead center of this clearing stood a rotting house looking nothing like the dwarf houses from before. This was full elven, but very old, and with crude human repairs. It was a hideous mix of style and practicality, which only fought each other for dominance of the eye, rather then blending together. To an artist the house was a nightmare, but unbeknownst to Crunk, it was home sweet home to someone far too uncivilized to care. As they walked past, Crunk stared at it with morbid captivation. Just as he finally turned his head to observe the path in front of him, the front door burst open to reveal a man wielding a club, and a look of someone who was just naturally violent.

The barbarianorc had a hint ofhuman in his face, as if some where a few generations ago anhuman had been bred with. He yelled in rage.

"WHAT THE HEEEEAALLLLL ARE YOU DOIN BY MY LAND!" His voice sounded like gravel on tin and had a distinct drawl to it.

"Just ignore him, he may leave us alone." Jhosper said in a hushed voice. Crunk continued walking and ignored the orc-man's threats.

"YOU COME BACK HERE SO I CAN RIP YOU APART!" he said.

As annoying as the man was Crunk didn't so much as give a thought to retaliation. That was of course until the barbarian grabbed a rock the size of a child's fist and whipped a poorly aimed shot at Crunk. It caught him on the right shoulder, and he whipped around with fire in his eyes.

"Not wise you barbaric oaf!" Crunk said with anger, and removing a throwing knife from its sheath, he let it fly at the creature's head. Unfortunately he was out of practice and instead of scoring a killing blow, the knife left a large gash between his nose and cheek.

Furious, the barbarian charged at Crunk, crossing the distance between them in a few seconds. But big charging idiots were dispatched by Crunk as easy as fish in a barrel. He readied himself for the attack, and watched as the man raised his club. Just before impact he faked as though he were raising his arms to block the blow. Then he dived straight into the monster's legs. He went down, flailing and howling. Crunk was the first to recover, and he threw his legs around while unsheathing his dirk. As fast as he could he could another stab into the orc's leg muscle. The orc-man let out a scream of rage and kicked Crunk backward, He came out of the roll and popped up to his feet ready to draw a sai and finish the fight, but it proved unnecessary. Jhosper had already drawn his mace, and finished he beast with a crack to the head.

" Cherry picker." Crunk quipped.

" Heads up, he's a papa." Jhosper said looking back toward the house. The orc man seemed to have a whole idiot family, complete with orc children and an orc wife.

"These people are ugly as sin." The dwarf muttered.

Four orclings charged forward just as dumbly as their father. Crunk quickly plucked his throwing knife from the father and plugged the nearest one in the head from a short distance. A lightning throw of his dirk fell the second. The third was in melee distance of Crunk and he fell to two slashes and a stab of the double sais. The fourth hesitated at the sight of his fallen siblings, and was punished with two perfect holes in his chest.

Jhosper looked on slightly disturbed. "You're quite efficient," he said, giving away a hint of shock. But he quickly turned his thoughts to the mama, who howled with rage and tossed a broken branch that had lay on the porch at them. Jhosper easily deflected it and charged the beast.

She took a swing at him, but he only broke the punch with a swing of his mace, which mauled and broke her arm. Another strike to the stomach sent her to the ground, and two more full downward swings killed her with two sickening thuds.

"That was… messy," Crunk said, taking in awe the gruesome scene that they had caused.

"Barbarians," Jhosper replied, "a sad existence they lead. I think it best if we just leave all of us this behind us."

"Agreed" replied Crunk quietly as usual, and the softly began treading down the same path, not looking back.

* * *

Hey, no body said these were good people, even if they are the hero. Btw, I had a plotline for chapter three figured out in my head (you know, the one set a couple hundred days in the future), but it turns out, I don't want to do it. So I'm juts gonna delete that chapter. That's right, bye-bye plotline. Anyway, thanks for reading, let me know what you think. C-ya. 


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